


Picking Up Momentum

by kali_asleep



Series: One Hundred Different Ways [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bad Puns, Cuddles, F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Sweet, brettanomycroft follower giveaway, buy a new toothbrush because forreal, len_kagamine_lover, so sugary, so. much. fluff.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kali_asleep/pseuds/kali_asleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no reason for Marinette to be so nervous about her date. She's only going out with her longtime crush and partner-in-stopping-crime, Adrien Agreste. Now if only he would stop making her blush at every possible moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking Up Momentum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hicha45](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hicha45/gifts).



> Written as a prize fic for len_kagamine_lover, one of the three winners of my 1500+ follower giveaway over on tumblr! They asked for a fluffy Adrinette first date, post-reveal, and I hope this delivers!

 “Oh, hey, will you go on a, -um, date with me?”

Adrien turns back, casual-as-can-be, to ask her the question in the last few minutes of homeroom. The next few moments consist of high-pitched shrieking as Alya and Chloé, definitely for different reasons, appear to lose their minds.

A month ago, Marinette’s heart would have leapt from her throat and hurled itself straight out the door, but this morning it thrums, hard and happy, in her chest. Warmth blooms under her skin.

“I'd love to,” she says.

Adrien’s handsome face lights up, and he hits her with a roguish grin she’s only used to seeing behind a black mask. Bold, Adrien lifts her hand off of her desk and presses a quick kiss to her knuckles. Mme Bustier is screaming at Alya, or Chloé, about going to the principal’s office, but Marinette has maybe stopped caring.

“It’s a date, then,” he breathes as he pulls away.

She can’t help but roll her eyes.

“Obviously.”

He looks so much like Chat in that moment it’s unbearable; his emerald eyes gleam and her heart gives a quick stutter.

Marinette thinks she’s handled it pretty well, volleying his not-so-subtle flirtation back in his court with ease, until it hits her that the bell rang over a minute ago and she’s sitting in a half-empty classroom. No doubt Adrien slipped out while she was stuck grinning like an idiot in the second row.

…

For not the first, or even second, but possibly the thousandth time, Marinette steps in front of the mirror and smooths her skirt.

“You look  _ fine _ ,” Alya says, “Better than fine. You look hot.”

She glances down to her phone, where Alya’s smiling face shines out from the screen. As reassuring as Alya’s words are, Marinette’s stomach doesn't unknot.

“Hair down, or hair up?” Marinette asks, sidestepping the compliment. She doesn't  _ feel _ hot, unless the uncomfortable tingle of nerves set under her skin counts.

Last night she’d decided on ringlets, and had spent a good forty minutes struggling to get her wet hair into the soft rollers she wore to bed. This morning, though, her hair cascades down to her in loose waves that look alien compared to her usual style. Adrien liked Ladybug, spandex and pigtails, and so sure, that must mean he likes Marinette too, but maybe he  _ really _ likes the pigtails or would think she looked like she was trying too hard, or-

“Marinette!”

Jarred from her thoughts, Marinette jumps, then looks down at her phone sheepishly. Alya’s scowl takes up most of the screen, but Marinette can picture her free hand on her hip. The eye roll she doesn’t have to imagine.

“Relax,” Alya demands, “You look great, and you’re going to knock the socks off of Adrien. The two of you are practically dating already anyway, right?”

If the desired effect is to get Marinette to stop messing with her hair, Alya succeeds; Marinette  freezes, incapable of responding.

Because the thing is, Alya isn’t completely  _ wrong. _ The past month has been spent in a state of flirtatious limbo, the Chat becoming increasingly present in Adrien and the Marinette becoming more evident in Ladybug. Adrien had been inviting Marinette to eat at two-person café tables during their lunch breaks for over a week, and she’d been grinning and teasing him and only resisting the urge to gently scratch under his chin half of the time. But the Marinette that spent over a year daydreaming about the blond that sat in front of her wrestles with the concept that she, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, is officially going on a date with Adrien Agreste.

“We’re not dating,” she protests weakly, “Just friends.”

“Uh huh,” Alya says, “And Adrien hangs out in the gym with his arm around  _ my  _ waist until fencing practice starts because we’re  _ such good friends _ .”

It had only happened once, maybe twice: she’d been walking from the locker room to the front of the school when he’d spotted her. Leaving the other fencing students he’d been waiting with, Adrien had rushed over with a question to ask her - about patrols or purses or something - and of course they’d fallen into the natural rhythm of conversation and he’d wrapped his arm around her like Chat did all of the time and-

“Oookay girlfriend, take a deep breath and give your brain a minute to reboot. You are clearly having OS issues.”

Nodding, Marinette takes a deep breath and wipes invisible wrinkles from her skirt once more. Her hands are shaking. Never in her life would Marinette have anticipated being so nervous over going on a date with  _ Chat Noir.  _ He was her partner, her best friend, the only person fully aware of the complexity her life offered.

Marinette squares her shoulders. She is a superhero, and she is going on a date with Adrien. From downstairs, she hears her mother call up.

“Gotta go, that’s him,” Marinette says, picking up her phone, “Wish me luck!”

“Like you need it,” Alya shoots back.

She blows Marinette an air kiss and disconnects the video call. Tikki, hovering just out of phone’s view and miming encouragement while Marinette was talking to Alya, now swoops over and lands on her shoulder.

“She’s got a point,” Tikki says, “You've really got all of the luck you need.”

Tikki’s happy giggle lingers in her ears as Marinette charges down the stairs. She forgets entirely about putting her hair back up.

…

One moment, Adrien is sitting on the couch next to her mother, smiling and nodding along as they discuss the upcoming Mayor’s Gala, and the next moment Adrien is fumbling, rising to meet her with wide eyes and color on his cheeks.

“You look gorgeous,” Adrien breathes. A strange expression crosses his face; Adrien blinks twice and glances to the side, replaying his words. Sabine laughs delicately at his shoulder. With a start, he looks down at Marinette and swallows hard.

“I mean, hi. Hi, Marinette.”

“Good morning, Adrien.”

Though she manages a coherent sentence, she must not look any less flustered. Adrien looks like he woke up on the runway, born wearing the trendy, well-fitting black slacks and the green cardigan over white vee neck. He leans in and his lips brush over each cheek in greetings. Sandalwood and a musk Marinette recognizes first as Chat, then as Adrien, hits her. Washed over in him, Marinette doesn't return his gesture until she feels the scrape of his stubble on her skin. It’s not bravery but a wave of want that gives her the fortitude to turn her head just enough for her lips to make full contact with his cheek. They pull away at the same time, and Marinette might have noticed the dazed expression on Adrien’s face if she weren’t so stunned herself. There’s a beat of thick silence.

“You look gorgeous,” he says, “I-I know I already said that but-”

Marinette tries and fails at keeping all of the blood in her body from rushing to her face. She starts to duck her head and then stops herself: Adrien is Chat, and she is not going to let the first half of that equation get in the way of how she interacts with the other.

“Thanks,” she says, “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Tension breaks under his laughter. Adrien runs a hand through his hair in a way Marinette is learning isn’t quite Adrien Agreste and isn't quite Chat Noir, more an amalgam of both. He turns back to Sabine.

“I'll have Marinette back at a respectable time this evening, ma’am,” Adrien says seriously.

A smile glows on Sabine’s face, and she looks at him with such tenderness that Marinette thinks both Dupain-Cheng women might melt then and there. Sabine reaches up and places a hand on Adrien’s cheek.

“Don't you worry about it, dear, the two of you just go out and have a lovely time.”

Marinette kisses her mother goodbye and leads Adrien down the stairs, taking him through the back of the bakery to give her father a hug on their way out. Adrien shakes Tom’s hand, only to be swept up in a crushing hug. There’s a warm spot just below Marinette’s ribs that whispers about how much she’d like to replay the moment over, and over, and over.

“Are you excited about our, um, date?” Adrien asks once they exit the bakery.

She looks up at him, seeing none of the hesitation she’d heard in his voice represented on his face. Adrien grins at her,  practically bouncing with each step. He may as well have ears and a tail, for as unreservedly he half-dances on the sidewalk next to her. Marinette puts a finger to her lip and looks up, the picture of contemplation.

“Well… I guess it’ll probably be better than staying in and doing homework,” she says.

Adrien deflates, shoulders slumping, and the minute quiver of his bottom lip digs right under her ribs. There's no way he can think that Marinette is serious, but suddenly he isn't meeting her gaze. It’s with a rush of selfish relief that Marinette realizes Adrien must be as nervous as she is. Still, now it’s on her to fix it.

She sways and bumps his shoulder with hers. Adrien looks down, expression of uncertainty shining through his weak mask of neutrality. He raises an eyebrow.

“But you should know that I'm always excited to be around you,” Marinette says and then, because it’s a date and she figures she’s allowed, she threads her fingers through his and gives his hand a firm squeeze.

…

They take the Metro across the city at Adrien’s insistence, something about ‘he hasn't said anything but I know the Gorilla is teasing me’. He struggles with the  _ billeterie _ and insists that it’s been a few years since his father has let him travel on his own so  _ would she please stop giggling it’s very distracting _ , but they manage to catch the next train that comes by. Shoulder-to-shoulder, they sit smushed between an exhausted looking mother and her two squirming children and a burly man with his face set to scowl. Adrien readjusts his hand to better hold hers, settling their joined hands on Marinette’s leg.

He pulls her from her seat as they approach the  _ Porte Dorée _ stop and never lets go of her hand as they stroll down the wide sidewalks to the  _ Palais de la Porte Dorée. _ Keeping her eyes fixed to the path before them is impossible, so Marinette sneaks glances up at him to take in the handsome set of his jaw and nose in profile. Once again he toes that unusual line between Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste, his hair artfully tousled with product. Marinette gets the sneaking suspicion that she’s seeing the emergence of the Adrien that Adrien has always wanted to be. If it’s possible for her to squeeze his hand any tighter, she does.

Finally, Marinette has to let go as they approach the counter to buy tickets. She pulls her wallet from her purse, ready to pay, but Adrien waves her off.

“Not a chance, My Lady. I invited you out, so I will be paying for this, um, date.”

She huffs and puffs and Adrien pays for their admission to the aquarium anyway.

The basement aquarium is large, cool, and relatively empty given that it’s late morning on a Sunday. Marinette rushes immediately to the open-air exhibit in the center of the room and bends over the rail to peer down at the fresh water pond where a couple of crocodiles lounge on wide, natural rocks. Adrien comes up behind her and rests a large hand on the small of her back. Marinette wonders if she’ll ever get used to it, the way her heart hammers wildly whenever he touches her, or smiles at her, or says her name (and secretly hopes that she doesn’t).

“These guys don’t look nearly as tame as Fang,” she muses, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Better than a dragon, though.”

They share a private grin and continue to wander around the exhibits, starting with the freshwater aquariums and making their way to the brightly colored saltwater tanks. Marinette mimics a pufferfish Adrien startles when he taps on the thick glass, cheeks bulging out as she fills them with air. His green eyes crinkle with a smile as he says, “You are too cute, Marinette,” and places a kiss on her cheek.

He repeats himself once he sees how red said cheeks get. Brain temporarily offline, Marinette can only continue to blush and pulls him along to another exhibit.

“When I was younger I was terrified of the ocean,” Adrien confesses when they stop to admire the stripes and spines of a lionfish floating by in one of the tropical tanks. “For some reason my father had left me at Chloé’s mercy all day during some event at the hotel, and so we snuck upstairs to watch TV. Jaws was on one of the channels and she made me watch with her.”

Adrien frowns, but Marinette feels a smile creeping up on her face. She can picture tiny Adrien, perhaps nested in a pile of blankets, peering out between his fingers while watching the movie. Even the presence of Chloé in her vision doesn’t spoil how adorable it all is. Adrien catches Marinette’s dreamy expression and laughs.

“You can imagine it went the first time I was taken to the Côtes des Basques for a swimwear shoot,” he continues, “The girl I was supposed to be modeling with literally threw me over her shoulder and dragged me out into the water… come to think of it, she was pretty ripped, even for a sportswear model.”

He shakes his head, reflecting, and it allows Marinette a moment for her own confession.

“I can’t swim,” she says sheepishly, “Not even in a pool. Maman and Papa sent me to lessons for three or four summers in a row, but I sink like a stone. Last year, when we went on the class trip to Paloma Plage, Kim threw me in and I just about  _ died _ .”

Adrien chuckles and pulls her close to his side. His hand slides from waist to hip, and regardless of how casual the gesture is, it sends a wave of heat up her spine to bloom in her cheeks. It seems like Adrien knows exactly what he’s done when he smirks down at her and says, “But I bet you look good in a swimsuit, Buginette.”

She sputters, and might have fallen over if he hadn't been holding on to her.

“Y-you’ll have to Summer, I mean- wait. Until Summer. To find out if I do.”

As if Adrien hadn't already broken her then and there, he swoops down until his mouth is level with her ear and says, “Until then I guess I'll just have to keep fantasizing about it.”

…

An hour and a half later, Marinette is shivering to the chill of the aquarium and proposes they turn their lunch plans into a picnic. There’s nothing fancy about the plastic wrapped sandwiches and small packages they buy from the corner mart, but it turns out that everything tastes better with Adrien sprawled out on the grass with his head in her lap. With one hand she manages her sandwich while she runs the other through his hair. He purrs and jokes and eats and they bask in the warmth of the early afternoon sun. After lunch, Marinette sneaks half of her package of cookies into her purse for Tikki to munch on, and she blocks Adrien long enough for him to pass off the slice of cheese he’d pulled from his sandwich to Plagg.

Kwamis fed, Adrien bounces to his feet and offers to help her up.

“Ready for phase two of our, um, date?”

She can’t believe he’s still feeling nervous about the whole ‘being on a date’ thing, but she nods and lets him pull her standing and guide her to the bus station.

…

“I hope you don’t mind a bit of walking on this part of the, um, date.”

Marinette blinks, taking in the sign for the Arboretum de Paris. She doesn’t mind, of course, it’s a beautiful day and she’s never been here before, but there’s something that’s bothering her.

The walk along tree-lined paths, stopping to read plaques or speculate on how many types of trees they’ve used for cover during akuma fights. There’s a stretch of path devoid of anyone but them, and they deem it safe enough for Plagg and Tikki to come out and stretch their tiny limbs for a bit. Immediately the two zip off, though Marinette thinks she catches Tikki’s voice insisting, “It’s an  _ adorable _ idea.”

It doesn’t hit her until a good forty-five minutes later. Adrien has just tugged her off of the path, and holds the long, trailing branches of a willow aside for her to duck under. Hidden in the cool green shade of the tree, Adrien pulls her back against his chest and leans up against the trunk. They exchange no words, though it’s likely Marinette’s heart is pumping loud enough to clear any silence. He rests his chin on her shoulder.

Realistically, she knows that the groundskeeper would have to kick them out at dusk, but Marinette begins plotting what it would take to stay here, like this, forever.

“Is this um, date, okay?” Adrien asks.

She swallows once, breathes in through her nose, and lets out a sharp exhale. She can’t  _ believe _ it. Of  _ course _ he would. Sagging a little, Marinette slaps her forehead.

“It’s an  _ um _ date,” Marinette groans, “ _ Chaton _ , it’s an  _ um date _ .”

Adrien succeeds in holding a serious face for approximately three seconds. The first snicker worms its way out, which opens the door for another.

“Adrien I can’t  _ believe _ you,” she continues, burying her face in her hands, “It’s an  _ um date _ . I hate you so much right now.”

“You love it,” Adrien retorts. He half-snorts into her shoulder as he tries to stifle his growing chuckles.

Marinette slides her hands from her face and attempts to shove his head off of her shoulder, but Adrien holds her too closely. Instead, he just loses any remaining self-control and erupts into laughter. She tells herself it doesn’t matter how nice it is to feel his laughter vibrating in his chest - he is a massive dork and she  _ hates _ him right now.

“So where are we going next then, smart one? An auditori-um? An empori-um? Seriously, how in the world did you even come up with that in the first place?”

Adrien fixes her with emerald eyes that keep laughing even after he stops. He rests his forehead against hers.

“You’ll find out,” he says. She’s about to protest, but then he leaves a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose, and Marinette figures she’ll let it slide.  _ This time _ .

…

It’s a planetarium.

Really, it should have been obvious.

And actually, Marinette is quite excited, because she hasn’t been to the Palais de la Découverte since she was in primaire, but she groans and complains the entire way up the stairs regardless, because there’s no way Chat should think he can just get away with such a terrible joke simply because he’s  _ handsome _ and  _ nice _ . They hold hands in line for tickets and hold hands as they wait outside of the planetarium theater, and it  _ almost _ makes up for everything.

As it turns out, they’re the only ones in to see this particular showing. Marinette makes a show of picking where to sit, bemoaning that there aren’t enough options until finally Adrien rolls his eyes and selects a seat for them.

The lights dim, and the music swells, and eventually they shoo Tikki and Plagg away after their running commentary about how inaccurate the depiction of the Big Bang is (‘ _ There was a  _ lot _ more magic _ ,’ Tikki points out, while Plagg grumbles something about, “ _ Talk about ruining a perfectly good nap _ ”). Planets unfurl above them as a sonorous voice describes the Solar System. Adrien’s hand rests comfortably in hers.

“ _ Marinette _ ,” Adrien whispers.

With her free hand she waves him silent. Transfixed by the images rotating and shifting along the dome above them, Marinette doesn't notice Adrien has leaned in until the warmth of his breath caresses her neck.

“Marinette,” he says again.

“Hold on,  _ Minou _ , this is interesting…”

His calloused fingers brush her cheek as he reaches out and gently tips her head to face him. A comet streaks by overhead, flaring bright enough for her to see the resolute set of his stare. The light flickers out as the video overhead goes into some spiel about constellations and the Zodiac. Even in the dark, she can feel his eyes joining the sensation of his hand like a physical touch.

“My Lady…”

His thumb sweeps back and forth along her jaw, then pauses at the corner of her lips.

They are alone in the theater, but Adrien’s voice never raises above its breathless murmur.

“For over two years you were the world to me. Fighting with you, patrolling with you - I didn't think that it was possible for my life to get any better. I would have moved mountains and drained oceans for you.”

Her breath catches in her chest. Everything Adrien is saying is in past tense, but he hasn't let go of her yet. The power of his gaze hits her every time the dome lights up above them.

“But then, about a month ago, you introduced me to the girl behind the mask, and it turned out that my best friend was already one of my best friends. And like that, I knew the truth: you’re not my world, Marinette, you’re my entire universe. You- you are my sun, and my stars, and every inch of space in between.”

It's impossible to tell when she started leaning in, when the air between them closed to nothing. Marinette feels the weight of his words and the weight of his eyes and never wants to look away. 

Above them the planets align, and their own kind of harmonic convergence occurs: their noses bump and their heads tilt and their hearts pound as one. Their lips meet.

Adrien’s lips are soft and smooth. Their first kiss is a tender press, drawn out long enough for Marinette to feel as though gravity has given up around her. His mouth moves underneath hers, deepening the kiss, and the brick in her stomach suddenly seems weightless. 

To say they part would be a debate over semantics, for their noses still touch and his lips still graze over hers even after the kiss has ended. So Marinette feels it when Adrien lets out a sigh and says, “Oh thank goodness, I’d been practicing that all week.”

Marinette’s not certain if it’s appropriate to roll one’s eyes and snort after kissing one’s date for the first time, but she does it anyway. There’s a happy wiggle in her chest that floods her with fondness for the giant ball of fluff pretending to be a regular human boy. Adrien looks like he’s about to say something else, but Marinette throws her arms around his neck, leans over the armrest between their seats, and kisses him again. Overhead, the universe explodes into existence.

…

On the trip back they snag an individual pair of seats. Marinette had thought it might be more considerate that way, but with the fifth giggling kiss she leaves on Adrien, she begins to reconsider how the people sitting behind them must feel. The arm he wraps around her shoulder wipes away the twinge of guilt: Paris is the city of love, and she figures that no one deserves more to be in love than Chat Noir and Ladybug.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to sockdilemma for reading over this and making sure I didn't make a complete fool of myself; go hit her up on tumblr and AO3 (READ SILVERVINE K)
> 
> Feel free to bring by your dentist bills over at brettanomycroft.tumblr.com !


End file.
